


Chicago for One

by Powerfulweak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on true events (sorta), Fluff, Instagram flirting, M/M, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4791641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/pseuds/Powerfulweak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everyone else's flights get cancelled, Gabriel finds himself the sole attendee at his brother's bachelor party. Thank God he can keep himself entertained enjoying all the things Michael had planned (and maybe flirting with the hot moose-guy on Instagram while he's at it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicago for One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JiniZ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiniZ/gifts).



> So after hearing about [this story](http://www.buzzfeed.com/stephaniemcneal/chicago-for-one#.qjyA7K5Z1n) , I knew I had to write something shippy and fluffy based on it. Thanks to [Jiniz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/JiniZ) for suggesting Sabriel

Gabriel doesn’t even like football.

He sips at his beer and watches the… which one is that? Linebacker? Wide Receiver? Run down toward the goalpost. As many football games as he watched growing up (thanks to his dad and four brothers), It would reason that he’d be able to follow a game. Sadly, though, this entire thing escapes him. He glances at the scoreboard displayed on the Jumbotron, groaning over the fact there’s still eight minutes left and it’s only the 2nd quarter.

Gabriel lifts up an arm as a beer vendor climbs the steps leading to his section.

“Beer me,” He calls out. The beer vendor pulls a plastic cup from the tray and passes it over as Gabriel hands him a $10.

“Got the section all to yourself, I see?” the vendor says as he makes change. Gabriel glances over at the six adjacent empty chairs.

“Yeah, I’m here for a bachelor party… Not my bachelor party,” he quickly adds when he sees the flicker of pity in the man’s eyes. “My brother’s. But he… uh, well he missed his flight out of San Diego. As did everyone else.”

“Hmph,” the vendor says as he offers Gabriel his change.

“Keep it,” he mumbles, waving the guy away. The vendor thanks him and continues up the steps.

“Why we couldn’t watch a football game in San Diego, I have no idea,” Gabriel mutters to himself.

It’s a lie actually; he knows exactly why Michael wanted to fly his entire wedding party to Chicago.

“Look, I’m a Bears fan and I want to go to a Bears game for my bachelor party,” He’s complained when Gabriel brought up the idea of a beer-and-strippers type of party. “And if I’m going to a Bears game, I might as well do it in Chicago. I’m only getting married once and I want to do it right!” Michael didn’t appreciate Gabriel’s laughter at the last comment.

Gabriel wonders if this might be the first recorded case of a Groomzilla. He has no idea how Eve puts up with his shit.

Stupid Michael. Stupid San Diego. Stupid airline cancelling all outgoing flights due to a “power outage.” He doesn’t know why he even came to the game in the first place, other than the slim hope that one of the other groomsmen might make it and not letting the $250 ticket go to waste.

Gabriel pounds down his first beer, dropping the cup to the ground. At least no one is around to complain about him being a slob. He plucks his phone out of his pocket and browses through his text messages, scrolling past the lists of apologies from the other groomsmen as well as the groom-to-be himself.

_Any progress?_ he texts Michael. The thought bubble appears almost immediately.

**_Still no power. They are diverting people to nearby airports, but it’s not looking good_**. Michael texts back.

“Fuck,” Gabriel groans. Another thought bubble appears.

**_No one else showed up?_ ** Michael asks.

“They are all in San Diego, you Jackass,” Gabriel mutters. He was the only who flew in from somewhere else, arriving from Miami early that morning.

_No_ , he texts back.

**_Well, at least try to enjoy the game. The City is great, I prepaid the hotel and other attractions and the dinner reservations are already set. Enjoy yourself_**. Michael replies. Gabriel rolls his eyes dramatically.

“How am I supposed to enjoy myself when I don’t know anyone?” He mutters. Gabriel is personable and extrovert, but even he is not prepared to face the awkward explanation of “I’m alone at the world’s saddest bachelor party and it isn’t even mine.”

He grumbles to himself and scrubs a hand down his face. He knows deep down that Michael is right; Chicago is a great city. He might as well try to be positive about the situation. There was a full afternoon of activities planned out, thanks to Michael and his type-A personality. Another text from Michael arrives.

**_We will make it out there. Guys weekend might just be 2 days instead of 4_**. Gabriel shakes his head and taps on his phone, opening Instagram. He hold up the camera and angles it to get the best shot of the empty seats beside him, making sure to look as forlorn as possible in the photo. He snaps a picture and types out a caption:

_Candyman01: @3Mmilton couldn’t make it to his own bachelor party. Too bad. His team is up. #Chicagoforone #gobears #Iguess #beerguythinksImpathetic._

Gabriel posts the photo and pockets his phone once more. He settles back, trying to follow the game and enjoying his beer while making half-hearted attempts to cheer when the rest of the stadium does. At halftime, he pulls his phone out to see if there are anymore message from Michael or any of the other guys. He’s a little surprised to see an Instagram alert instead.

He taps on the app and reads the new comment on his photo.

_SWnchstr503: Cowboys will pull through in the 2nd half!_

Gabriel frowns down at his screen. “Who the hell is ‘Swnchstr503?’” he asks himself. He replaces his phone in his pocket, enjoying his buzz as he patiently waits for the game to finish.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel leans back in the hard plastic seat, watching the skyline tower above him as the river boat moves beneath another bridge. Michael must’ve shelled out a buttload to reserve the whole upper deck and Gabriel was not about to give up the chance to be mostly-drunk on a river cruise.

He pats his stomach, still full from the Italian beef sandwich he had for a late lunch. The lady at Portillo’s took pity on him when she heard his story, upgrading him to the large fry. Gabriel made sure to grab a photo with her for posterity.

He stretches lazily and picks up his phone, seeing another IG alert. He opens the photo of him and the Portillo’s Employee.

_Candyman01: This is Donna. She felt bad for me when she found out I was here alone gave me an Italian beef “made with love” <3 Thank you Donna #Chicagoforone #BestItalianbeefever #Portillos_

_SWnchstr503: Italian beef is good, but you need to try a real Chicago hot dog while you’re out here._

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at the comment. SWnchstr503 again? Gabriel taps out a comment.

_@SWnchstr503: Maybe on my next trip. I don’t think I can eat for another few days, I’m so stuffed._ He rises from his seat and walks toward the side rail of the ship. Gabriel raises his phone up, trying to get a nice shot of the buildings and river.

_Candyman01: @3Mmilton thanks to you, I have the whole upper deck to myself. Wheeee! @CastielMilton Jealous?  #chicagoforone #obligatoryLonelyIslandreference_

It doesn’t take long for a comment to appear beneath the photo.

_SWnchstr503: You’re passing my office right there :)_

Gabriel turns around, looking back at the high-rise he just passed. He grins and types another comment.

_Candyman01: @SWnchstr503 I’m waving. can you see me?_

The boat abruptly lurches to a stop as it comes to the dock. Gabriel makes his way down the steps toward the exit.

“What now?” he mumbles to himself as he pulls up Michael’s helpful “Itinerary Email.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, this is beautiful,” Gabriel says sarcastically, “Really, this is postcard-worthy.” He stares out the window of the Hancock building from the top floor. The famous horizon is hidden by a mass of pea soup-thick fog. His phone buzzes in his pocket with a text message. He pulls it out to see it's from Michael.

**_Looks like you’re having a good time. Me, Castiel, and Lucifer all just got on a plane out of Burbank. We have a connection in Portland, but we should be there by early tomorrow._** Another text bubble appears right after it. _**Looks like you have an admirer on IG, though?**_

Gabriel quirks his mouth to the side. No doubt he's talking about SWnchstr503. Gabriel doesn’t know what this guy’s deal is. Is he just IG-Stalking Gabriel for some nefarious purpose? Maybe he was planning on mugging him or stealing his kidney.

Out of curiosity, Gabriel opens Instagram and taps on SWnchstr503’s profile. He might as well find out what his future organ-harvester looks like.

His profile is full of a mix of inspirational running quotes, photos of old books, Chicago scenery, and pictures of a golden retriever (which, from the captions, Gabriel guesses is named “Bones”). There a few shots from a couple months back that catch Gabriel's attention. Two good looking men stand in front of a glossy array of cars. One of them has short hair and pouty lips while the other towers over him with dark brown hair almost to his shoulders and an easy going smile.

_Me and My brother @Impala67 at the Auto Show. He’s in heaven #gearheads #chicagoautoshow._

Gabriel opens a comment box and begins typing.

_Candyman01: So which one are you: Blue Steele or the Moose?_

He takes a moment to snap another photo before he leaves for his dinner reservation. He cocks a doubtful eyebrow at the camera.

_Candyman01: Famous Chicago Skyline? I think not #chicagoforone #Hancockbuilding #noskylineforyou_

Gabriel pockets his phone once more and makes his way to the elevator.

 

* * *

 

“So Portland, huh?” Gabriel notices other diners at the restaurant giving him dirty looks for talking on the phone, but at this point, he doesn’t give a shit. “Seems strange that they sent you all they way out there for a connection.”

“Wasn’t my decision,” Michael answers, his voice muddled with the sounds of the airport. “At this point it would’ve been quicker to drive.”

“I hear ya,” Gabriel chuckles. He looks up just as a waitress sets his amaretto sour down in front of him. “What about the rest of the guys?”

“Bartholomew wimped out. Said he'd rather stay home,” Michael sighs. “Raphael says he got diverted to LAX but I think he’s still waiting on a flight. Samandriel and Inias are connecting in Tempe, I think.” Gabriel shakes his head and takes a long pull from his drink.

“This is going to be fine,” Michael continues. “We’ll just… rearrange the schedule a little. That’s all.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gabriel offers in mock encouragement.

“I’ll let you go,” Michael says. “Keep posting your pictures. Lucifer, Castiel and I are really enjoying them.” Gabriel assures him he will and bids his brother goodbye. He opens Instagram for about the 30th time that day, a pleased smile crossing his face when he sees a response from SWnchstr503.

_@Candyman01: I’m the tall one. I think “moose” would be overdoing it though._

Gabriel’s eyes light up and he checks the photo once more. SWnchstr503 is hot. Like, _really_ hot. He glances through SWnchstr503’s profile a second time, this time doing checks for a girlfriend or maybe a boyfriend. Except for the model-face brother and some older photo’s with a small blond girl in front of a dart board, there doesn’t seem to be anyone significant enough in SWnchstr503's life to show up on his Instagram feed.

Gabriel taps his phone against the table as he thinks. Maybe he’s reading this wrong. Is this guy flirting with him or just being nice? What if he starts flirting with this guy and makes a fool of himself. He glances around the crowded restaurant and then at the large, empty table before him.

Can’t look anymore like a loser than he already does, he supposes. He aims his phone at his drink and snaps a photo.

_Drinks and Dinner at Bar Siena tonight before hitting some bars later. @SWnchstr503, care to join me for dinner?_

It’s a risk and a long shot at that, but Gabriel is taking it. A waitress comes by and sets a plate of fried calamari in front of him. Gabriel nervously plays with the rings while staring at his phone, willing an IG notice to pop up.

20 minutes later, Gabriel is on his second cocktail and mentally kicking himself. Of course, the super tall, super hot IG guy wasn’t interested in him. What the hell was he thinking?

“Excuse me?” someone says, catching his attention. Gabriel looks up (and up, and up) to see a giant of a man staring down at him.

“Uh… are you, um, Candyman?” the guy asks nervously. SWnchstr503 stands before him, in the flesh, wearing an expensive wool coat over a tailored gray suit. Gabriel stares in disbelief before finding his bearings and nodding.

“Uh… Yeah, yeah. I’m Candyman01.” He says, offering his hand. “I’m guessing you’re SWnchstr503?”

“Sam,” the guy says, shaking his hand. Sam smiles at him and Gabriel feels like he could melt. “So… Should I just keep calling you Candyman?”

“You can call me whatever you like,” Gabriel replies with a surprising amount of composure. “But I answer to Gabriel most often. Would you like to take a seat?" Sam nods and pulls out a chair across from Gabriel. The waitress stops by and takes him drink order before scurrying away. They stare awkwardly at each other for a moment before Gabriel clears his throat.

“So, do you always meet people on Instagram?” Gabriel asks

“I’m not Instagram-stalking you!” Sam says at the same time. Both laugh lightly and Gabriel takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not stalking you,” Sam repeats. “I swear. I just… I saw your profile and you seemed funny. I didn’t mean to keep commenting but-”

“It’s ok,” Gabriel holds up a hand to stop him. “Really, it’s ok. Actually made a bad day a lot better, so… thank you.” Sam gives him a relieved smile.

“I will say, though,” Gabriel adds, taking a sip of his drink, “that if you were stalking me, that would be _super_.”

“Oh really?” Sam raises a curious brow.

“Couldn’t find a better looking stalker if I tried,” Gabriel offers. The waitress stops back by the table, dropping Sam’s beer in front of him.

“So, Sam,” Gabriel begins. “Tell me about yourself.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel slumps against his brother’s shoulder, fast asleep, as Michael browses through his phone.

“Castiel,” Michael jerks his shoulder trying to wake his brother up. “Hey Castiel, wake up. Gabriel’s posted more pictures.”

“What?” Castiel mumbles, wiping the drool from his chin. Michael holds up his phone, showing his Gabriel’s latest Instagram photos.

_Candyman01: Look who’s here! @SWnchstr503 #IGBuddies_

_Candyman01: @3Mmilton Sorry bro, but @SWnchstr503 is much better dinner company #dinnerwithamoose #IGBuddies_

_Candyman01: @SWnchstr503 doesn’t like being called moose #iftheantlersfit #he'scallingmeplatypusnow_

_Candyman01: Hitting the club with @SWnchstr503 on @3Mmilton’s dime #thanksbro #yourbachelorpartyrocks #canmoosesdance_

Michael smiles as he browses through the photos stopping at the last one. Gabriel’s face is tilted in, his forehead pressed against another guy with medium length hair and a warm smile.

_Candyman01: #Chicagofortwo with @SWnchstr503_

“Looks like Gabriel had fun,” Castiel yawns, sitting up straight in his chair.

“It does,” Michael says as he types a comment.

_3Mmilton: @Candyman01 - You’re welcome ;)_

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
